jacopo's point of view
by RandomChickInYourBushs
Summary: a one-shot about what is going inside Jacopo's head when he dicides to stel the white book


Jacopo's point of view

Takes place in chapter so many tears

(Chapter 72 page 651)

Jacopo hears his mother crying and decides to steal the book from his grandfather

I could not believe what my ears where hearing. She is crying! I attempted to listen closer, to see if my ears weren't misleading me. Alas they weren't. I have never heard her weep. Not even when they have brought my father back from the fight, deceased. I haven't wept either. However that was a dissimilar tale.

What should I do at a time like this? Call down at her? Perhaps I should console her?

I knelt at the end of the shaft, trying and failing to see her through the inky blackness that consumed everything and anything that was nowhere to be found in its never ending talons.

Although I didn't see her that did not signify I could not hear her.

Her weeping was something unbearable. It echoed through the vacant space, leaving behind a miserable, tortured sensation.

I shivered, though not from the cold, which was great, but from the fear that nestled itself to my heart. My mother by no means cries. Ever.

Mt mother always kept her self-belief and her power and might close to her. She never embraced me in her arms like Brianna always dose, Though Brianna doesn't need a motivation to do it. She always dose. It never mattered if I had been kind to her or malicious to her.

I have heard the maids in the kitchen chatter about it. "It's because he looks so much like his father." One had said to the other, while they kneaded the dough for bread. The other had looked down pitifully. "Brianna has always been in love with him." I didn't hear the rest. I darted away before I had likelihood to.

I knew for a truth that Brianna is still to a great extent in love with him. She kept a coin with his facade in her bag. I remember her taking it out and examining it for a while before hurriedly bringing it to her lips and shoving it back in before anyone could spot it. It seems like she always does something to remember him by. For instance, she writes his name allot. She writes it in the air, in the dust and even on the walls.

The sobbing grew louder and louder. It hurt, it hurt so much. She sounded so broken, so fragile. As if she was falling into pieces, such tiny little pieces. Every sob was like another bit, falling to the ground, so many it was as if nothing could ever bring her back to one.

'no ', I thought. I don't want my mother in pieces. I want her just the she is. I can't imagine how it is to exist devoid of her. And I refuse to start now.

One of my servants has told me that my grandfather planned to take me to his castle so I could keep company to his son once my mother was gone. It was not just. I do not want to go the castle of night. I detested it. All I want is to go back to castle, long back in Ombra. That is where I belong. That is where I will always belong to. The blood that runs in my vines confirms it. Ombra was, is, will and forever would be a part of me.

Moreover, to be utterly straightforward, my grandfather scares me breathless. The way he seems to drag himself wherever he goes. His ragged and gasping breath, His spongy skins stench, so spongy it looked as if you could make a hole in it with your finger.

For the love of everything good and pure in this accursed world, by the sounds of it, mother must be drowning in her own tears. By the amount of weeping coming from there I am surprised that the place did not flood.

Although it wasn't a surprise she was sad. Of course she would be sad. It so dark in there, even from the outside I couldn't see more then the palms of my hands. If it was so dark in there it meant she could not read any books. And that must have broken her more than anything. For the reason that she loved books more than anything. She loved books so much more than me. I had always known that. Even with that I did not want her marrying four-eyes. I despised every tiny part of that two headed rattle snake. His voice is what I most hated. Like burnt sugar mixed with over warmed honey. The site of him made me crave to hurl.

As opposed to the blue jay and the fire dancer, I liked them allot. They both where true heroes with pure hearts and brave souls. Although I could never be like them, I worshiped their actions. But that wouldn't matter soon, Seeing as they both where going to be executed. My grandfather made me Watch an event like that. The poor victim was flayed. I have tried locking the tortured screams of the injured party in the darkest and deepest corner of my heart. But every now and then the memory would come back to haunt me in my dreams. And I would wake up bathed in sweat, panting for air.

Then it came to my notice that my mother has stopped crying. Had she cried herself to death?

The guards didn't seem to note, though they probably did not care as I leaned on the far edge, trying to see what has happened to her.

"Mother" I called. Silently prying an answer would come to me from the depth of this horrid place. This word did not come easily to me. I have always thought of her as her ugliness. She didn't care. Like everything ells about me. It did not concern her. But now …..

"Jacopo?"

I let out a breath I didn't see I was maintaining. She was well, at least as well as you could be in this inky hell.

"is the blue jay dead ?"

I swallowed. What do you think? I chastised myself. That she would ask about you? She never does. And she never will.

I forced myself to answer her.

"Not yet. He is binding the book."

"Where is Brianna?"

This time I grinded my teeth together.

"in one of the cages." I spat, staring venomously at the floor. I will never admit to this aloud. But I was always jealous of Brianna. Violante liked her much better than me. I mean for goodness sake Brianna was allowed to sleep in her bed chamber. She talked to her much more often than she talked to me, her own son, her only son. I have grown up to the fact that my mother prefers Brianna as her offspring and ignores me completely. I had matured knowing all along that she wanted to get rid of me as soon as I was borne.

But even I had to confess that Brianna was better than me. She is beautiful and kind and gentle.

I have no reason to hate her.

She comforts me when the milksop's man taught me about my dead father.

And yet I can't help but feel angered at the vary mention of her name.

I took a deep breath and readied myself to tell her what happened while she was imprisoned in here.

"Orpheus-" i wasn't able to say anything else. The guard grabbed me by the scarf of my neck and hauled me up as if I was some helpless kitten."

"That's enough chatter." He said. "Get out."

I wriggled and pushed and heaved, trying to lessen his iron grip but for nothing.

"Let her out!" I roared pounding the man as hard as I can, taking no notice of the fact that he was fully fortified and could slay me without lifting a finger. "let her out this minute."

It merely made him laugh.

He looked at the other guard and said.

"hark at him ,will you!" He turned to me and pushed me so roughly I staggered over my own feet and landed on my backside.

"mind you don't end up in that cell yourself, midget. Your grandfather has a son now. So his grandson doesn't count for much, spatially when he's Cosimo's brat and his mother is thick as thieves with the blue jay."

My fury bubbled inside me, just waiting to resurface. But I knew it would be a lost cause .and I wished, oh how hard I wished I could make fire dance on my fingertips just as the fire dancer does. Or conceivably have the skill to kill so many men with one strike from my deadly blade, as only the blue jay knows how. So that I could show them that I am not helpless, and that I am to be feared from across the land.

I heard my mother call me from below, her voice almost sounded desperate. Oh incredible not only am I angered now I am losing my right mind.

I turned to the exit, blocking out the guards comments.

Before I stepped foot outside I made a hasty diction.

I kicked the guards knee with all the might in me and ran for it before the other was able to catch me.

I scrambled down the black corridors, running blindly and making wild turns left and right. I preferred it allot better when the walls where aflame. Allot better.

Where was I to go?

The room where they looked my mother before hand was nor a preference.

The slimy Orpheus has read beetles into that accursed place. I have changed multiple times already and I can still feel them curling on my skin.

Perhaps to the cage where thy imprisoned Brianna?

Not a chance. The night-mare was guarding that place and I was pretty sure I would not be able to kick it in the knee.

I slumped onto the stony floor and clutched my head in my palms.

I wished they would all just disappear into the darkest pits of hell, where they belonged.

I wished yet again I could be like the blue jay or the black prince. That should soon stop them laughing.

And then I could take my rightful place as prince of Ombra and attack my grandfather's bewitched kingdom. Just like my father. Only, I would succeed. And then I would take all the silver there is to be found and bring it back to Ombra. And the strolling players would sing songs about Jacopo the hero. And I would make them perform every day. And the fire dancer would write my name in the sky. And my mother would love me and I would marry a girl as beautiful as Brianna.

I could see it in front of me, as clear as one of Balbulus's paintings.

And there would be a book about me. Jacopo. It would be just as remarkable as the blue jays and not empty and hallow like…...

I saw it now. I knew what I had to do.

The whie book. I did not need the blue jays coureg or the fire dancers fire. I only needed to know where it wan. And that I did. I was one of the few to know.

It would be easy. I thought to myself as pulled myself up.

That would cirtenly make them laugh on the other side of their faces.


End file.
